Goofy Takes a Class

Is it Goofy to take a 'Soup & Stew" class in the middle of summer? Why of course it is. And that's exactly what I did last night.

I went to a place called the KC Culinary Center (http://www.kcculinary.com/) in downtown Overland Park. It was not a hands-on class, so basically we just watched the chef create wonderful, delicious stuff, while we sipped wine and had some breadsticks, cornbread and foccacia.

We learned how to make Beef Stew, 5-Onion French Onion Soup (complete with garlic crouton and Gruyere cheese on top), New England Clam Chowder (surprisingly easy!), and Chicken Noodle Soup (with homemade noodles).

On that last one, there was a bit of pasta-making. Pasta dough is easy: flour and eggs. Stir a bit, roll out, cut with pizza cutter. So far so good. But then you have to let the noodles "dry" for 2 hours. Goofy has no patient for slow food. The chef asked, "Is this too hard for anyone?" Of course, I raised my hand. I asked, "What is you just want dumplings instead?" The answer? No drying! Just make the dough, spoon and drop into the boiling soup. So Goofy will be making Chicken DUMPLING soup, thankyouverymuch.

He also threw in a recipe for quick Drop Biscuits that I definitely will be using. Bisquik? YUK.

All the soups were yummy. I met some interesting folks, had a glass of wine and had a blast! I can't decide which soup to make first. They were all yummy and fairly simply. I might go for the Stew recipe - that one was hearty enough to be a meal alone.

So, Dear Readers...What have YOU learned to do lately?

I am a Dork

Such plans I had! They were perfect. Until they weren't.

I read Harry Potter before Harry Potter was cool. Bet you haven't heard of Percy Jackson. He's the next cool Potteresque dude. Check him out here. But I digress...

So, anyway, I am obviously looking forward to the seventh and last Harry Potter book (insert teary eyes here). In preparation, I had a plan:

1. Rent movie - Harry Potter #5
2. Go to theatre to see Harry Potter #6
3. Read book - Harry Potter #7

...all within the same week, thus making for a Harry Potter Extravaganza of the highest order. I had my butter beer and chocolate frogs at the ready, but alas...

Does anyone see the giant FLAW in my plan? See it? SEE IT?

There is no Harry Potter #6 movie! Yet. #6 is Half-Blood Prince and it's not due out until November 2008. The movie available for rental would be #4 (Goblet of Fire) and the movie in the theatres is #5 - Order of the Phoenix. Then INSERT BIG GAPING HOLE HERE ...then #7 book (Deathly Hallows).

I have to READ #6! Which is totally okay, but it will add an few days to my plan. But there's no way I can do all that by Saturday night. If you've been living in the Chamber of Secrets, midnight Saturday night is when book #7 arrives.

And, just to add a Dark Mark on my perfect plan, the Goofy family reunion is this weekend. We will be driving to Azkaban, Iowa on Friday. There will be no midnight madness at Border's on Saturday night (Cagey, you gotta represent for me, yo!).

If my perfect plan had been, er..perfect, I would be surfing the 'net for a Borders in Iowa. But alas, I will be reading #6 on Saturday instead of #7.

At least I have some good driving time in which to read. I promise only to read while I'm not driving, okay? I'm just not ready to join Moaning Myrtle yet.

Cheers!

Goofy is Furious

I am furious. I am not furious often. I am usually goofy. But I am now furious. Half of my blood is Irish, so furious is not a small thing. It is a big thing. I am FURIOUS.

Why?

Let me tell you.

I was talking to my manager this afternoon. He mentioned that someone in our department had mentioned that it was odd that I was out of the office "so much recently". I suppose "so much recently" means being an hour or so late on Monday, then having a doctor's appointment on Tuesday and busting my butt to get there by 10:30am. Neither of which I will post as billable time.

The "someone" is yet un-named, although I have my suspects. I'm furious because, c'mon, if I wanted to punch a timeclock, I would work for McDonald's. I'm a professional. I'm in my forties. Do I really need to put in "face time" to be productive? Does this "someone" see how much I work in my home office? Do I really need to be "seen" to be productive? How 80's is this entire topic?

I left the office with a smirk on my face. Whatever. They can kiss my ass. Then, as I started thinking about this more on the drive home, the Furious came out.

Jeez. There's been some shit coming down for the past year regarding my current work situation and I'm thinking this is the straw that broke Goofy's back. Normally I would just blow this off, but I can't. It's stuck under my skin and won't go away.

What's SO ironic about this is...I'm a contractor. All the regular employees get a once a week "work from home" day. I don't. I haven't minded. So some idiot decides to mention that I'm "not in the office" much this week. Why in the world do they care?

I'm thinking...life is too short for shit like this...

NOTE: I posted this last night, then deleted it today, then decided WTF and re-posted it. I'm not as peeved today.

Busy Goofy Catches Up. Kinda.

Okay, so I've been way too busy to blog. Since May. Or maybe I just haven't had anything blog-worthy. Or maybe a bit of both. Either way...I am BACK! Please hold your applause until the end.

I'll try to catch you up on all the Goofy Goings-On, but it might take a few posts. So my plan is to post shorter, more frequent posts. So here goes...

The latest fun in the Goofy household is the arrival yesterday of Alex's NEW TWIN BED! And HEADBOARD! With SIX-DRAWER DRESSER! And matching MIRROR!

...all in five flat boxes which appeared on our driveway. Gulp. Annie get yer screwdriver.

No boxes were damaged in shipping. This is good. But each one weighs about 70 pounds. So they will inevitably be damaged by one of us trying to move them. We will have to tear the boxes apart in the garage (their current location, after Mr. Goofy dragged them in from the driveway), and carry the contents upstairs to Alex's room.

I foresee a few walls being dinged.

And of course, our pride as parents is on the line. I'm sure at some point Alex will ask, "Do you guys know how to put this together?" He's in that annoying "question your parents' knowledge" stage, so everywhere we go its, "Do you know where you're going?" "You don't know how to get there." "You don't know how to do that", "You're lost", etc. It's funny, at first, then it starts to get under your skin.

So, the Goofy weekend will be filled with much unpacking of parts and pieces, much swearing, probably an injury or two, and hopefully, in the end, a new bed for Alex.

...which he will promptly roll out of in the middle of the night. And then blame us for putting it together wrong. Sigh.

The Family Fun Jar

A few months ago, I decided that, in the interests of financial education for my then three-year-old son, we would start a Family Fun Jar.

First off, three year olds have NO IDEA about money. I had to sit him down and teach him what a penny was. And I caught him throwing away a dollar bill, because, "it wasn't money." (he thought only coins were money)

So I figured he should learn early. Robert Kiyosaki would be proud.*

I found a blue plastic container that had a small, round hole in the lid. I taped the lid shut, and marked a line about 3/4 from the top of the container. Then I herded up Alex and Mr. Goofy for a family meeting.

I christined it the "Family Fund Jar". Okay it wasn't a Jar, but "Family Fund Blue Plastic Container with Scotch-Taped Lid So No One Cheats" just didn't roll off the tongue. All our spare change would go into the FFJ. When we reached the line, we would all get together and decide how to spend our fun money! Big Fun at the Goofy household!

We went through drawers, pockets, car ashtrays, wallets, the laundry room and just about every place that spare change hides. Alex carefully put all the change into the Family Fun Jar.

...and it reached about 1/12 of the way from the bottom of the FFJ. Mommy had picked too gigantic of a container for the FFJ. Or over-estimated how much loose change we had lying around.

Anyway, we've been donating to the FFJ for about 6 months now. I fear that the lesson will be lost if I wait too long for the reward of spending the FFFJ.

So....I need your ideas! Dinner and a movie is what comes to my mind, but Alex nixes it. He wants to use it to "go to the zoo and a park". Er, that stuff is free, dude. He's still got a lot to learn.

Anyway, ideas! Ideas! Something that will be memorable. That Alex can look back on and think, "Wow! We saved our money and got to do XYZ. That was so cool!"

Oh, and I have no idea how much money is actually in the FFJ. I found a whole bunch of dollar bills that went through the laundry and those got added recently, which helped. If I had to take a wild guess, we probably have $50 in there. So don't suggest a trip to Disneyworld, cause that won't even get us in the parking lot.

*If you haven't read "Rich Dad, Poor Dad" go do it. Now! A very important book for anyone alive.

Sweet!

I got this comment from lorib in regard to my "What would you ask for, if you knew you would get it?" post:

Follow-up: I forwarded this to D because he had a former, much-loved intern going through her first job search and getting low-ball offers. D encouraged her to ask for more money and also sent her this post. I have no idea if she read it, but she did ask for more money and got it. You may have helped put one young woman on the right track at the start of her career.

This just made my day. No, scratch that. This just made MY WEEK!

I love it!

Keep it up! If nothing else, we will all make more money. That can't be bad!

...and just so you know I "walk the walk"...here's my tale:

Friday night we went to our favorite Italian restaurant. It was around 7:30pm and, of course, the place was crowded. We were told we had a 20 minute wait. After about 5 minutes, Alex starts getting restless. Since we are standing there looking at 2 empty tables in the bar, and a foursome eating at the third, I said, "let's ask if we can sit in the bar". Two minutes later, we walked past all the other poor (silent) suckers waiting for their table and sat in a nice, roomy table in the bar. And, no, no one was smoking...they were all just waiting for other tables! It was sweet!

Keep it up! I want MORE stories!

A Friday the 13th Story

I said something to a co-worker today about it being Friday the 13th, and they asked me, "Oh, are you superstition?". Hmmm... I didn't know how to answer!

I happily stand under ladders, I socialize with black cats (if they are nice), and I just plain try to stay out of graveyards, so there's no risk of me walking over someone's grave.

However...

I do listen to the universe.

Okay you new age goofy freak, what does that mean?

I think there are signs around us that give us guidance about whether we are going in the right direction or not. You might call it "God", "karma", "Gaia" or even "shit happens".

Mr. Goofy and I grew up in the same city. But we did not meet until we were in high school. But after comparing notes over the years, we have come to realize that our paths intersected many, many times over the years. YMCA camp, field trips, common friends...we found a scary amount of examples that prove to me that we were meant to meet. [insert Twlight Zone theme here]

The best example of this was when we adopted our son. Regardless of what you might read, when you meet your adopted child for the first time, angels do not come down from the heavens and you do not hear trumpets, violins, nor kazoos playing. You just stare at each other and think, "Jeez, is this the one?"

So when we traveled to Russia for the first time to meet our new son, we were listening. For a sign. Anything. So we would know if were on the right track. There's a lot of of scaryness related to adopting internationally. You have no real medical history. It can be lied about. If the parents are not married, the dad is not put on the birth certificate, so you have no idea of his medical history. There is a big risk of fetal alcohol syndrome, especially with all the readily-accessible vodka. And sexually-transmitted diseases are pretty common and can be transferred to the child of a pregnant mom.

Unlike China, when you travel to Russia, you do not get many details regarding the child they have selected for you. The "expecting parents" for China get pictures, names, ages, and details. We got a hearty, "C'mon over, we have a boy selected for you". How old? Name? "Just c'mon over and meet him." Um...okay.

So, of course, one of the first question friends and family asked was, "Well, what are you going to name him?" We were very open to keeping his given name, provided it "worked" in America. Our comment was typically, "Well, if it's something like Vladamir, we will probably change it. But if it's something like Alexander, then that would work here and we will keep it."

The first details you get about your "referral" are in Russia. We met with the Director of the Ministry of Education. He had a file in his hand. He pulled out a picture of a bouncing baby boy. Obviously a boy, as the child was buck naked, all his boy parts showing, with a goofy grin on his face.

"His name is Alexander," the Director said. And that was all we needed to know.

The universe spoke.

We heard.

What would you ask for, if you knew you would get it?

Since moving to our new house, I have realized how much I missed our house cleaner. We fired her when we started doing open houses every Sunday at the old house, since we would scrub the place top-to-bottom Sunday morning, then she would come on Monday. We wondered what we were paying her for, so we fired her (nicely, and she refused to come clean on Friday, else we would have had her do that).

Anyway, I decided to reward the small business that left a nice, pleasing house cleaning flyer on our door. I'm becoming very jaded against large, franchised companies and starting to prefer working with small, locally-owned joints.

I called, we met at the house and walked through the house-cleaning procedure. She seemed nice and seemed willing to have her crew do WAY more than Previous Housecleaner. Change our sheets? Sweet! Dust our blinds? Rock n' Roll!

At the end, she said, "And I will call you the following day to find out how we did and see if you would like to get on a weekly or bi-weekly schedule." Wow! I was impressed. That seemed very professional and easy. I didn't have to call her back, and when she called, I could easily mention any tasks that we had forgotten to ask her to do (something that was always very ackward with Previous Housecleaner).

Then came. They cleaned. They did a great job. The house smelled good. It looked good. Mr. Goofy noticed.*

I took a few notes (very few) on some things that we forgot to tell them (we hide our bathroom trash cans under the sinks - something we got doing during the open house process and learned to love...who wants to SEE their bathroom trash all the time? Ugh. And they didn't know that and didn't empty those cans.).

And....she didn't call the next day.

Nor the next day.

The weekend came. Then went.

Monday came and I was started to get a bit peeved. All she had to do was call. And we were ready to sign up! We were even considering the weekly option, although with every minute ticking past, this option was going away. Also, over the weekend, we decided that, since they did such a good job, we would pay them to do a move-out cleaning on our old house. So whenever she called, I was ready to give her TWO PAYING JOBS!

[This is where I transition to a life lesson. Wait for it...wait for it....]

Then, last night I tripped across an interesting book called "Women Don't Ask". The premise of the book is that, by their nature, women don't like to negotiate. And it hurts them in the long term.

I could relate. I have a hard time asking for things sometime. Last time I bought a car, I negotiated the price, and I don't think I slept the night before. It was kinda painful....until you actually GET something that you are asking for, then it's wonderful!

Here's some interesting stats from the book: more here

-Men initiate negotiations about four times as often as women.

-When asked to pick metaphors for the process of negotiating, men picked "winning a ballgame" and a "wrestling match," while women picked "going to the dentist."

-Women will pay as much as $1,353 to avoid negotiating the price of a car, which may help explain why 63 percent of Saturn car buyers are women.

-20 percent of adult women (22 million people) say they never negotiate at all, even though they often recognize negotiation as appropriate and even necessary.

And I had a real-life example! All the housecleaner gal had to do was call me. A call that I was expecting. And she would have two cleaning jobs. This week!

Postscript: I finally relented and left her a message late Monday afternoon. She called me back mid-morning Tuesday, didn't ask at all about how the cleaning went (I volunteered). After the whole conversation, I think she still seemed pretty ambivalent about getting my business. Sigh.

So, Dear Readers, whether you are female or other, here is your Homework Assignment for this week: ASK SOMEONE FOR SOMETHING THAT THEY DON'T HAVE TO GIVE YOU.

This could be as simple as asking for a better table at a restaurant. Or as large as asking for a raise. Look for opportunities!

The worst you can do is get denied. Keep asking. If the first person says "No", try another person.

And....let me know how it went!


*NOTE: Mr. Goofy has a mom from Germany. They grew up in a spotlessly clean house. He is anal to the max about clean. This is why I don't even TRY to clean. I ain't never winning THAT game.

Letter to Daycare-Where-Goofy-Junior-Goes

Dear Idiots -
Why, oh why do you insist of selling Easter baskets ($10) and bunny ears ($5) in the main lobby of your daycare for an ENTIRE week?

Knock it off!

Signed,
Pissed-Off Goofy Girl

Every day for the past week, Goofy Junior has bee-lined to the table, picked up a basket (or the ears) and said, "I want this." OF COURSE he wants it. It's like waving raw meat in front of a tiger. Or putting a mouse in a cage with cheese all over the place. OF COURSE the tiger and the mouse want the meat and cheese, respectively. They've been looking at it all day. It's pretty. It's colorful. It's bunny-ish. They want it. Now.

So every day this week, when I pick up Junior. He asks. I say, "No". No, scratch that. I don't just say "No". I explain too.

"Junior," I say, "you have no less than THREE pairs of bunny ears at home. In several days, you will have more Easter baskets and basket contents than you could ever dream"*

(here comes the whining) "But I WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANT it."

(then comes the tears) "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA."

I have to explain to the wide-eyed dad walking in the door that we are having a "tough love day". "Been there," he grumbled, then walked briskly away.

After 15 minutes or so (no, you didn't read that wrong....FIFTEEN), Junior finally gets tired of crying. We get in the car and drive away. Three minutes later he's happily giggling and smiling, bunny ears and baskets no longer in his face.

In case you are curious, the same thing happens at Valentine's Day. I'm really glad we don't have another holiday coming any time soon.

*NOTE: Junior's grandparents are coming in this weekend, surely bearing tons of Easter sugar...er, joy.

The Glass is Half-Full, Dammit!

I attended a Real Estate Investing conference this past weekend...trying to get my motivation back for This Old House (and possibly some Other Old Houses...I'm not through yet!!!). I'm a stubborn cur sometimes. (my husband would scratch out the 'sometimes')

Here's what was funny. Kinda. Our speaker on Sunday had a short segment called, "Houses NOT to Buy". My rehab house met ALMOST ALL OF THE CRITERIA. Hello? No wonder it's not selling (well, other than a flaky realtor, recurring plumbing problems, no parking, blah, blah, blah).

It read like a laundry list: Avoid houses....
-on a busy street (check!),
-with steep front yards with stairs (check!),
-with no driveway (check!),
-no off-street parking (check!),
-bad neighborhood (check!),
-no garage (check!)
-over 30 minutes drive from your home or office (check!).

Jeez. I really know how to pick 'em, huh?

But, ever the eternal optimist, here's my take-away...

I'VE MADE ALL MY MISTAKES WITH THE FIRST HOUSE! Yee-ha! What an over-achiever, I am. Now I can relax.

I know...I'm goofy. Duh. Check out the name of this blog. It's named that way for a reason.

The Best Kid's Cartoon EVER

Is Peep and the Big Wide World.

Check out the theme song. I guarantee it will make you smile.

Go to the library and check out a DVD...even if you don't have any kids. If you have kids, sit down with them and watch an episode. It's friggin' hilarious stuff, my friends. You gotta chuckle at a purple duck in a sailor's hat.

Oh yeah, almost forgot....they are educational too. Bonus.

Dora has officially been de-throned. Yippee!!!

What are you waiting for?! Just watch one now.

Bear-onomics 201

UPDATE on The Great Bear Debate 2007:

I found out that the bears cost $10 apiece. (this was more than I expected...for the size/quality of the bear, I was thinking more like $3 -$5...but I suppose there was the charitable component at work).

I also found out that there were 40 bears for sale. I'm not great at math, but that looks like $400 to buy all the bears. I also found out that the Bear-ophile Daddy won 3 "free week of daycare" prizes hidden in the bears' pots. If I take an average amount for daycare at our place, it's probably around $180.

So $180 * 3 weeks = $540. So Bear Lovin' Poppa got an $140 discount on daycare, a charitable deduction on his taxes (minus the $3-5 cost per bear), and 40 bears to give away to family and friends for St. Paddy's Day.

So, as much as it pains me, I have to go with option a) Savvy businessman.

Bastard.

Bear-onomics*

Our daycare is doing a fund raising drive for charity. Yesterday, when I went to pick up Goofy Junior, there was a table by the front door filled with St. Patrick's Day-themed, little stuffed bears, each with a little black pot with a paper in it. Being a diligent reader of the daycare newsletter (fun reading, y'all), I knew that in one of those pots was a FREE WEEK OF DAYCARE. Not a small prize for us working parents!

I didn't have my wallet with me, so I inquired, "how long will the bears be on sale?". "All week" was the answer.

So, I traipsed into daycare this afternoon, wallet in hand, ready to claim my bear. I had promised one to Goofy Junior the previous day, when he saw the aforementioned Table o' Bears.

But, when I entered the building....an empty table greeted me. No bears. No signs. Where the #&*% were the bears?! I asked Daycare Worker #1....no idea. I asked Daycare Worker #2...and she had the answer.

Some dad had done the math. He multiplied the price of the bears, times the cost of each bear, and compared that with the cost of one week of daycare. And....

The bastard bought all the bears. All of them. Every last fucking bear.

I think my jaw hit the floor....and I was immediately conflicted by two emotions:

a) Shock. He bought all the bears?! What about MY bear? How would I explain to GJ that some cheap dork bought all the bears?

then...

b) Jealousy. Why didn't *I* think of this? I could have gotten a cheaper week of daycare. Dammit.

Then I thought further...The dude actually helped the daycare achieve their goal...they DID sell all the bears. And they did get the donation for charity.

But...what about us "late parents" who didn't have their wallet on Monday? We have money burning a hole in our pockets for a bear. We want a bear dammit!

If you've read the book, "Freakonomics", this is a lot like the after-hours daycare scenario. A daycare had a problem with parents picking up late, so they decided to start charging for late pickups. They decided to charge $3 for a late pickups. Late pickups promptly went up. Yes, up!

As any parent reading this could tell you, well, DUH!...it's well worth $3 to have someone you trust watch your kid for an extra 15-30 minutes, while you run errands, work a bit more, pick up some milk at the store, etc. They grossly underestimated the value of that extra time!

...or that extra bear, if you take the analogy back to my story above.

So, Innernets, chime in!

Was the Bear-Buying Dad:
a) A savvy businessmen who knew a good opportunity when he saw it
b) A selfish dude who stole other kids' opportunity to bring home a bear
c) A bear-loving freak

*All apologies to the way-more-smarter-than-I authors of Freakonomics.

We've got to move it, move it...

Moving. Ugh. That should be the content of this post. But I will elaborate, because I wanna.

We headed to closing Thursday afternoon. After circling the block several times in search of the title company, I called and realized they gave us the wrong address. Fortunately, real address was fairly close to wrong address.

Signed piles of documents. Got to the Big Boy document (HUD-1). Numbers were wrong. Not in our favor, of course. Much calling and emailing ensued. Finally numbers were right. In our favor. Lady assisting us asked if I was an Accountant. "You are very detailed," she said. * I wondered how many people just sign the docs and don't actually READ them. Scary.

Left closing table. Went to This Old House (TOH) and loaded up some things to bring to This New House (TNH). Also grabbed Goofy Junior, so he could feel like he was "Moving" and not "Being Moved".**

Dropped off stuff at TNH, went to dinner.

Went back to TOH, put Junior to bed. Then the fun started. Packing, packing, packing. Moving boxes into the garage. Separating what Movers got to move versus what we got to move. In the end, there was way too much stuff for us to move. Making mental note for next time we move. Ow, my aching back.

Anyway. Next morning 5:00am: Up and at 'em! Much disconnecting: TV, stereo, computer, fridge, washer, dryer, sanity.

Movers showed up at 8:15am. At 9:00am, one mover somehow tripped, and in the process broke his ankle and our entertainment center. Let the fun begin!

We gave Broken Mover an icepack and waited for Replacement for Broken Mover. For the rest of the day, many jokes were made between the other movers regarding Broken Mover. "Ouch, I think I broke my ankle" was the joke of the day. I suppose you have to have tough skin to be mover.

Then we are at TNH, with all our Stuff. Ridiculous amounts of Stuff. Still packed. Staring at us, waiting. We collapsed in a heap of sweaty, tired Goofiness. 10 minutes later, Grammy and Grampy Goofy showed up. Bearing more Stuff. AAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!

After my nervous breakdown, we made some coffee and had cake.

The End

* Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

** NOTE: This is a BIG DEAL to a toddler. They want to know The Plan. If they don't know The Plan, much whining and crying may occur. And yeah, it's a PITA sometimes, but always worth to include him.

Cake Mania...Redux

So after installing the "Cake Mania" trial program on both my laptop and desktop, and playing the full (but not nearly long enough to satisfy) one hour, I am now "Cake Mania"-less. Cold turkey. No shivering and sweating yet, but close.

I want the colorful little characters to visit my bakery. I want to guess what they will order and make a cake BEFORE they order it. I want to upgrade my slow loafers to the speedier "Cloud Walker" versions. I want to speed around and make, frost and deliver their cake to them. I want to see the little delivery guy character pump his animated fist in the air after I gift him his cake.

Ah, the joys of being a computer game addict.

I thought I had figured out how to beat the system. I would just keep playing. SURELY, the game would not crap out in the middle of a round, right? If I could keep all 5 of my lives (I'll depart with modesty for a sec and tell you that it was pretty easy to do), I could just leave the game up and keep playing. FYI - this works for Bookworm.

But, alas, half-way into the round with the vampires, THE BLACK SCREEN OF THE TRIAL ENDING BADNESS appeared.

After I was finished cursing like a sailor, I tried to hack it. Maybe I could uninstall and reinstall. Maybe change my system date. FYI - these techniques work on some other trial programs, but you didn't hear that here. (wink)

I was stumped. I was cake-less. Customer-less. Oven-less and frosting-less. No air-pumping delivery man. Big bummer.

Oh yeah, I guess I could pay the 20 bucks for the real version, but that's like cheating right? ;-)

Best "Wastes of Time" 2007

I had about 15 minutes of spare time last Thursday night, so I started surfing. I quickly found a brainless arcade game site and looked up the most popular download..."Cake Mania". Mmmmm... I like cake. I thought I'd check it out.

I downloaded the free trial and ONE HOUR LATER my time ran out. Gah! This game is addictive, fun and easy.

Jill, our diligent baking hero, must keep her customers happy by supplying them with the cake that they ordered. If she takes too long, the customer storms out of the shop. If she makes them happy, they give her tips. Kinda like real life, eh?

She can upgrade her kitchen by buying faster ovens, faster icing machines and faster shoes. Also, she can make more profitable cakes by buying candle, wedding and retirement decorations.

I might actually cough up 20 bucks to buy the real game. Yes, it's that good.

Check it:
http://www.cakemania.org/

Don't like cake? Check out Bookworm, my now second-favorite addictive game:
http://www.popcap.com/gamepopup.php?theGame=bookworm

I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me?

Over the past three months, I've:

Lost my renter for my rehab house
Lost the buyer for my current house
Lost my boss (and this is a decidedly BAD thing)
Lost my temper...too many times to count
Lost my ability to connect to work from home (again, this is BAD, since I know have to BE there to work...how old-school is that?)
Lost touch with several good friends (again with the BAD)
Alllllmost lost a treasured co-worker
Lost contact with my much beloved husband (who is launching a new brand at his company and works like 50 hours per week...something I've never seen him do)
Lost my motivation for my current training goal
(almost) Lost my sanity

But...since I'm the Eternal Optimist (look it up in the dictionary and you will see my picture!), I also:
Gained a new goal (become a runner. still have to chuckle at this until it actually happens)
Gained a good friend at work
Gained an alliance w/ my boss at work (definitely a GREAT thing!)
Gained several potential buyers for our house (and we are not giving as many concessions this time...the gloves are on now, folks)
Will not have to travel to Russia in the middle of winter (yee-ha...this is big!)
Gained control over my donut addiction. New goal: No donuts until June. You might laugh, but this is a HARD goal for me. Krispy Kreme's a-callin', but I ain't answerin'.
Didn't lose my love for a good movie. Two "must-sees": "The Illusionist" and "Invincible". Illusionist is brilliant; Invincible is inspiring.
Gained the knowledge that Stephen King's son (Joe Hill) is a superb writer...almost on-par with dad. Check out "Heart-Shaped Box" if you are a doubter.

And gained perspective.

My last fortune cookie said: Things are hardest just before the summit.

My, how true this is. So where's the fucking summit already?!

Thoughts on a Snowy Tuesday

Work Realization #1: I spent today working from home (affectionately called WFH in our office, as opposed to WTF or WWJD). I realized that work can be as frustrating, if not more so, at home than in the office. It didn't help hearing the laughter of the kids sledding outside as I was on conference call after conference call, working backwards instead of forwards. Discuss amongst yourselves.

Lessons from the Young #1: The struggle for power and control starts young. Every day when I drop Goofy Junior off at school, some kid comes up to me and proudly declares that they "HAVE THE PIG", and show me this stupid little plastic pig. The pig comes from some sort of farm playset. Why they chose the pig to represent power, I will never know. But the pig holds the key. The pig is the shit. The pig is the POWER. At any point in time, all the kids know which kid HAS THE PIG. The pig is much-coveted. So, next time I get a raise or promotion (or a really high score on Frogger), I'm going to scream, "I HAVE THE PIG". Ahem. Okay, maybe I'll just whisper it to myself. Or not. What's "THE PIG" in your world?

Food Find #1: In keeping with my personal training goal, I've been searching for a sweet treat that's half-way healthy and not full of calories. I discovered one! Keebler Right Bites - Sandies. Sandies are a shortbread-type cookie. The normal version is fully of nutritional crappiness and loads of calories. But this version has only 100 calories and they are actually good. Also, BONUS! No transfat and, per the label, "contains two percent or less of salt, high fructose corn syrup, natural flavor, oat fiber, butter (cream, salt), soy lecithin, baking soda".

Food Find #2: Barilla Pasta Plus. What's the "Plus", you ask? Only that these little pastas are chock-full of protein, fiber and omega-3 fatty acids. By looking at the ingredients, you can figure out how...they include lentils, chickpeas, flaxseed, egg whites and barley. So how to they taste? They are a little chewier than normal pasta (or maybe I just didn't cook them long enough), but good! Not, in any way, like whole wheat pasta. BLECK. That stuff is nasty.

Food Find #3: Classico Vodka Sauce (Now I'm a bit worried, as this flavor is not listed on Classico's website!). This stuff rocks. You can even put it on pasta made from lentils and it tastes good. Ha!

Unfortunate Food Find #1: Tubs of pre-made frosting have trans-fat....always. Try to find one that doesn't. I searched the entire 4-shelf area in my local Price Chopper and came away empty handed. Sometimes products can get around actually listing the transfat, if they can manipulate the portion size to a small enough amount. Obviously frosting couldn't do this because trans-fat is LISTED RIGHT ON THE LABEL. So, ever the dilligent researcher, I went in search of a homemade frosting recipe and I found this: Cream Cheese Frosting Recipe - No, it won't sit in your pantry for 6 months waiting for you, but it's easy, delish, and trans-fat-FREE.

You know you are a geek....

...when a video about the Web gives you the shivers. But this one did. And it should give you the shivers too. Awesome stuff!

http://www.perceptric.com/blog/_archives/2007/2/11/2725655.html

Restaurant Rant

Cagey, Arun (Cagey's 16 month old son) and I went to dinner last week at a family-friendly Italian restaurant...or so we thought. Since Goofy Junior is now 3-1/2, he's pretty adept at the restaurant gig. He doesn't need a booster, nor a sippy cup, nor a bib. So I've gotten out of the habit of worrying about him too much while eating out.

Cut to Italian restaurant: Helpful waiter (or so we thought) comes to table, inquiring about drink orders. We have kids, so we are ready to order everything at once and proceed to do so. Whoa! This threw him off-guard and he looked slightly peeved. But we managed to get our order in.

Bread? The bread has gotta come quick or the kids get restless. Bread? Hello, BREAD?! BREAD!?!?!?! Bread did not come. Wine came (yee-ha!), but no bread. Moms happy, kids not. Waiter asked if we would like him to bring crackers for kids. SURE! PLEASE! Something to put in their mouths so the napkins, plates, and salt shakers would stay out.

Here's the punchline....wait for it. Wait for it!

He comes out with two bowls of ice cream! And says he can't find crackers, will ice cream do. I think both Cagey's and my mouths hit the table right about the same time. Er, NO! HELL, NO!

Luckily the ice cream disappeared before the kids could figure out that it was meant for them. Then the bread mysteriously appeared and all was well.

Until it was time for the check. It was in the twilight zone with the bread. Kids were starting to meltdown from quickly approaching bedtime. Check? Kids up and running amok, burning off that extra energy from fighting sleep... CHECK?! Kids stumbling around in front of waitresses carrying large trays of hot food. CHECK!?!?!?!?

I could go on, but I think you get the picture. When parents and kids go out to eat, they are not interested in a four-course, leisurely meal. It's more like an air-strike. Get in, get out, and no one gets hurt. Efficiency is key. Waiters and waitresses that are keen to this get large tips. Dorky waiters with no clue bearing bowls of ice cream prior to dinner do not.

Take heed, service industry!